


When You Get Close To Me

by bravado



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Basically zombies getting their freak on ok, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravado/pseuds/bravado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens they’re at the bungalow, pressed close on the lumpy couch, kissing. Kieren’s hands are bunched in the hem of Simon’s jumper, his upper body twisted to press closer while Simon runs reverent fingers through flaxen hair. </p><p>---</p><p>The first ten times Simon and Kieren get it on. Shameless porn without even a hint of plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happens they’re at the bungalow, pressed close on the lumpy couch, kissing. Kieren’s hands are bunched in the hem of Simon’s jumper, his upper body twisted to press closer while Simon runs reverent fingers through flaxen hair.

Kieren had arrived around noon, quickly admitting he was trying to escape Sue’s Christmas planning and curling up quietly on the opposite end of the couch to where Simon was reading. They’d talked, for a while, but Kieren was more content pulling a sketchpad from his huge hoodie pocket and settling in to draw. Simon watched him; Kieren’s white, white hands against the blue pencil he used, soft hair falling in his eyes. Kieren had noticed, eventually, and he’d looked shy (probably would have blushed if they still could) but didn’t tell Simon to stop.

Despite Simon only reading three more pages of his book, an hour had passed by the time Kieren finally put down his pad and scooted closer to Simon on the couch. This close, the couch dipped slightly, pressing their thighs together. Kieren didn't look at Simon; instead, he shifted slightly until his head was resting gently on Simon's shoulder.

“Alright?” Simon asked, voice quiet. Kieren made a small, affirmative noise, before turning slightly to press a soft kiss to Simon's shoulder.

Then his neck.

Reaching up, he pressed fingertips to Simon’s jaw and turned his head gently, kissing him, chaste but firm. Simon had made a soft, surprised noise but responded eagerly, hands coming up to the fine hairs at the nape of Kieren’s neck. Kieren had pushed closer, nose pressing into Simon’s cheek, and slipped his tongue lightly along the seam of Simon’s lips – questioning. Simon had opened his mouth happily to him, tongues brushing, and twisted himself closer to Kieren.

And that’s how they are twenty minutes later, kissing heatedly, afternoon sun slipping from the room. The quiet, wet noises they make set Simon’s skin alight, and they’ve never kissed like this before – almost with intent. Kieren makes a soft noise and presses closer, his hands slipping under Simon’s jumper and shirt to press against his flat stomach. Simon shudders, and Kieren must feel his muscles twitch, because his fingertips dig in just that little bit harder. They can’t feel some things anymore – temperature, pain – but Simon can feel the pressure of Kieren’s fingers, knows how close his hands are to Simon’s belt, and oh.

Simon Monroe, ex-disciple of the Undead Prophet, converter of the redeemed, actual grown adult, is getting hard from snogging on the couch.

It doesn’t feel the same as when he was alive, more like a slow building pressure than a burning desire. The treatment centre had claimed it wasn’t possible, considering the black something that had replaced all their bodily fluids, but most people know that isn’t entirely true. Simon certainly does, has known since the night Kieren had kissed him and left him wanting so bad. Simon shifts, and Kieren moves with him, panting softly into his mouth and god if that doesn’t make it worse.

“Kieren,” Simon says quietly, and Kieren hums against his lips, “Kieren, wait.”

Kieren pulls back instantly, confused doe-eyes lingering on Simon’s mouth for a split second before meeting Simon’s gaze. His hands stay where they are, pressed under his clothes, and Simon briefly wonders if he even knows they’re there.

“Did I… is this too fast?” Kieren asks earnestly, causing Simon to huff a disbelieving laugh.

“No, god, no. I just…” He hesitates, and Jesus Christ. He can talk people into abandoning cover up and rebelling against societal expectations, but he’s fucked if he tries to explain a hard-on. “I, uh… I don’t want you to think I… expect anything.” Simon finishes lamely, and he’s so thankful he doesn’t have any blood in his body because it’s all that’s stopping him from blushing.

Kieren fixes him with a confused gaze, but god Simon isn’t going to say it out loud. He gestures loosely at his crotch.

Kieren looks down and inhales.

“It’s okay, it’ll go away in a few mi-” Simon’s sentence is cut off with a choked noise when Kieren presses a tentative palm against the bulge in his trousers.

“Is this okay?” Kieren asks, and fucking hell his lips are so dark and wet. Simon just nods. Kieren watches his face and he begins to move his hand, fingers pressing against the soft material and curling against his half-hard cock. His other hand, still on Simon’s stomach, scratches lightly through the hair below his navel, fingers brushing the waistband of his trousers. Simon can’t breathe (he doesn’t actually need to, but still) and lets his head drop against the back of the couch.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” Kieren says softly, before leaning in to press gentle kisses against Simon’s neck, one of Simon’s hands still in his hair.

It’s clear Kieren’s inexperienced, fingers just that little bit off-beat. Virginal, Simon’s mind supplies. Amy never did say just how involved Kieren and Rick Macy were, but that’s not a thought for now. For now, all Simon can think about is the pressure of Kieren’s hand against his cock and the wet tongue flicking against his neck every now and again. Kieren twists his hips, pressing closer and throwing a leg over Simon’s own and – Simon groans. Kieren is hard against his thigh.

Simon’s hips buck up, and he’s fully hard now, but Kieren doesn’t make any move towards his belt buckle.

“We can- we don’t have to do this, Kieren.” Simon says gently, because he really doesn’t want Kieren to be doing this out of some misplaced sense of duty or something.

Kieren pulls back to frown at him, his hand going still. Simon tries not to be too disappointed by the lack of friction. “Do you not want to?” he asks, blonde brows furrowed, both of which are the opposite of what Simon wants.

“I just don’t want you to think you have to do anything you’re not ready to do.” Simon replies plainly. He watches emotions flicker across Kieren’s face; confusion, doubt, determination.

“I want to do this.” Kieren punctuates the statement with a firm squeeze of Simon’s cock through his trousers. Moaning right now probably isn’t entirely appropriate, but Simon can’t entirely stop the little strangled noise from escaping. A brief smirk quirks Kieren’s lips, but he turns serious again quickly, white eyes intent on Simon. “But… just this. For now, just this. Okay?” he says, tentative but firm, and it’s obvious that a distant part of Kieren is fearful that this may not be enough for Simon.

Simon runs fingertips along Kieren’s cheek, brushing into his hair, lips turning down at even the barest implication that he would ever, could ever, ask more of Kieren than he’s willing to give. “Yeah, of course. Just this for as long as you want.” he replies, and Kieren’s small smirk is back.

“Hopefully not for too long.” He says, grinding down firmly while he starts jerking Simon again. Simon laughs briefly before it turns into another moan. Frankly Kieren’s wit is half of his appeal (the other half is literally everything else about him, if Simon’s being completely honest).

Kieren’s hand moves faster and Simon glances down. He moans brokenly at the sight of Kieren rubbing him off through his trousers, hips thrusting up into Kieren’s palm. Simon didn’t imagine their first time together to be like this; quiet and strangely erotic in the afternoon light of the bungalow living room. He’d pictured bare skin and gasps in the dark, Kieren’s nubile body willing and languid against his own. A bed, at bare fucking minimum. But this is good, it’s so good, because Kieren wants him, is rutting against his thigh, mouth pressed to his neck.

His pants are tight, so he lets his legs fall open a little wider. Kieren moans softly against into his throat and grips his cock harder, pulling a groan from him. Kieren’s hips are growing frantic against Simon’s thigh, and Simon finally unclenches his hand from the armrest to place it on Kieren’s jaw. They kiss, Kieren nipping at Simon’s lips with more enthusiasm than finesse yet somehow still making Simon moan.

No one had touched him since he died, and Simon feels almost virginal, the pressure in his gut building rapidly under Kieren’s fumbling hand. Kieren must feel the same (and Simon absolutely doesn’t think about the fact that he may actually be a virgin), as he ruts down firmly against Simon’s leg, soft noises escaping into his mouth. He drinks them up, the hand still in Kieren’s hair trailing down to grasp his ass, and Kieren thrusts sharply against him, breaking their kiss to moan loudly.

Simon is going to come in his trousers, and he doesn’t even care.

“I-” Kieren starts, and his voice is low, going straight to Simon’s cock, “Simon, I’m-”. If they still could, Kieren would probably be blushing, so Simon catches his mouth in another searing kiss and flexes his hand against Kieren’s ass. Kieren’s hips hitch again, and his hand squeezes Simon’s cock sharply.

“Yeah,” Simon breathes, both a confirmation and a request, “Yeah.”

Kieren nods a little before diving back in, mouth demanding and fingers curling tightly around Simon. He thrusts against Simon’s thigh, soft noises catching in the back of his throat, and Simon’s never found fully-clothed rutting so erotic in his life. Suddenly Kieren pulls away, a sharp noise slipping between swollen lips. His hips jerk one, two more times and he’s groaning lowly, shaking against Simon’s side. His hand reflexively tightens around Simon’s cock, and with the obscene noises the boy is making Simon needs to come. Simon presses his own hand over Kieren’s (Kieren shudders at that, hips making a small, aborted movement) and rubs down harshly until he is coming, silent as his body trembles. Kieren makes a soft noise, pressing a wet kiss to the base of Simon’s throat that makes him shiver.

After a few moments Simon’s hand drifts up to Kieren’s waist and pulls him closer, both of them breathing heavily out of habit than necessity. They stay like that for a while before Kieren’s hand (Simon still had it pressed to his crotch, and his cock twitched as Kieren wriggled it free) presses to his jaw and tilts his head down for a kiss. For a moment, Simon is grateful for being partially deceased – lack of bodily fluids means he doesn't have to pull himself away to clean up, and right now, Simon couldn’t drag himself from Kieren for anything. Their kisses are soft, just light pressings of lips, and when Kieren finally pulls away he is smiling.

“Thanks.” he says quietly, and of course Kieren would thank someone for letting him jerk them off fully dressed.

Simon huffs a laugh, but punctuates it with another kiss, so Kieren knows he’s not being teased. Well... not being teased maliciously. He presses their foreheads together when he pulls away, staying as close to Kieren as he’s allowed, for as long as he can.

Kieren’s still curled tight against Simon’s side when he asks for the time a while later, both of them only just noticing that the room is nearly dark. Simon glances at the clock on the wall.

“Almost six.” he replies. Kieren stirs, hand finally slipping out from under Simon’s jumper. He moves reluctantly from Simon’s arms and arches his back, a soft ‘pop’ sounding as he cracks it.

“I should probably head home, Mum’ll have dinner ready soon and they still like me to sit with them.” he says, then smiles with affectionate exasperation, “At least they don’t make me mime eating anymore.”

Kieren stretches a bit more before standing up and Simon follows, legs stiff from sitting for so long. He tails Kieren through to the front door, but hesitates when Kieren steps back out over the threshold. Is he supposed to say something? It wasn’t exactly sex, what they’d done - but it was so much further than they’d gone before, and Simon knew it was important, but even when he was alive he hadn’t really shagged for anything but drugs or fun, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to-

Kieren stands on his tippy-toes to kiss him, a head shorter standing on the front step, and Simon (still somehow surprised) leans down to meet him. Fingers twine lightly through his, and Kieren breaks the kiss after only moments, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he questions lightly, and Simon nods. Then he’s gone, hand slipping away, walking his stiff walk up the street and into the dusk.

Simon watches him go and swears he can feel the cold night air on his fingers where Kieren’s had been.

 

* * *

 

The second time is much the same, hands pressed to jean-clad erections and Simon’s thigh pressed between Kieren’s legs. The only difference is that this time Kieren has the courage to unzip Simon’s pants, slipping a hand into his boxers to grip him firmly. The dry noise of skin on skin, mixed with the eroticism of Kieren actually touching him for the first time, has Simon coming in mere moments.

Kieren moans, lets Simon shake apart against him. Then Simon presses him closer to the wall of the bungalow and lets Kieren grind down on his hip until he comes, imagining how his pale skin may have flushed in life.

 

* * *

 

“I- I want to suck you off.” Kieren gasps, the next time.

Simon almost gives himself whiplash pulling away from Kieren’s exposed collarbones. They’re standing in the dark of the Walker’s garage, Simon pressing Kieren bodily into the wall, and while it may be late, they can still clearly hear Sue laughing at the television inside. Simon’s been half-hard against Kieren’s hip for a while, but he really hadn’t expected… well, that.

“You what?” He asks incredulously.

“I want to suck you off.” Kieren repeats, “Like, a blowjob.”

Simon raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I know what sucking off means. Have you ever actually done it before?”

Which was the wrong thing to say. Kieren’s looks away sharply while jerkily tugging his shirt and hoodie higher on his neck, covering the space Simon’s mouth had just vacated. Simon sighs, catches Kieren’s arms.

“I didn’t- it’s not because you’re inexperienced. I don’t care about that.” Simon says gently. Kieren glares, eyebrow raised in accusation, “I don’t, seriously!” Simon runs reassuring fingers through Kieren’s hair.

“Cool. Never mind, just forget I said it.” Kieren says and moves as if to make for the door, but Simon presses firmer against his body, forcing him tight against the wall. Wide, calculating eyes turn to him, waiting.

“I asked because it’s not actually the easiest thing in the world, and I wouldn’t want you running headfirst into something just because you think I want it.” He watches Kieren’s face, waiting for some sort of response. Kieren seems to be considering what he’s said.

“So, you do want it?”

“I want whatever you’re willing, and ready, to give. If that means fully clothed rutting for the rest of our lives, I’m over the moon.”

Kieren looks sceptical, but his hands are resting on Simon’s hips again, and he’s running his pink tongue over purple-blue lips. Simon waits.

“I still want to blow you,” Kieren begins, Simon’s cock twitching in his jeans at the frankly tame admission, “But… maybe not tonight. Maybe… maybe later.” Simon nods, runs a thumb along Kieren’s pale cheekbone.

“As long as you want.” He says, before leaning in to kiss Kieren.

Their kisses begin slow, but they quickly get heated, tongues and teeth working at sensitive lips. Kieren’s fingers flex against Simon’s hips, the pressure light but obvious while he tugs on Simon’s lower lip with his teeth. Simon makes a small noise and begins kissing his way along Kieren’s jaw, down his neck, pulling his clothes to the side so he can attach his mouth to Kieren’s defined collarbones again. It’s a shame they don’t bruise anymore, he thinks as he tongues Kieren’s smooth skin, the mottled purples and reds of hickeys would look amazing against Kieren’s pale complexion. He bites down gently, eliciting a soft groan from Kieren, who presses his hips firmer to Simon’s. Simon can feel Kieren’s erection, hard and insistent against his thigh, and he’s flooded with memories of Kieren rutting and shaking apart against him. A moan escapes at the thought, which he hushes by moving to suck at Kieren’s long, elegant neck. Kieren muffles a noise into the back of his own hand, hips jerking slightly again, when an idea strikes Simon. He pulls away, Kieren making a displeased noise at the loss, but Simon looks him in the eyes with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

“What if it was me?” Simon asks, but Kieren only looks confused. “What if I suck you off?” he clarifies.

The noise Kieren makes is downright pornographic.

Simon clamps a hand over his mouth, highly aware that Kieren’s family are literally on the other side of the wall they’re making out against. Hips buck sharply against his, Kieren’s breath hitching against his palm. Simon definitely files that reaction away for later. Slowly, he moves his hand away from Kieren’s mouth, speaking quickly and quietly so as not to be overheard.

“You don’t have to say yes. It’s just an offer, you don’t have to take it.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Don’t think that y-”

“Please.” Kieren moans brokenly, and Simon is certain that there’s not a person on earth who could deny that plea. Tinny laughter filters from the television inside the house, reminding Simon exactly where they are.

“Okay, c’mon.” He says, taking Kieren’s hand to lead him out and around the back of the garage, where the house backs onto pitch-black fields. The only way someone could see them here would be if they came out with a torch, and no one’s going to come looking if they can stay relatively quiet. Kieren’s got an almost dazed look on his face when Simon backs him against the back wall of the garage, giving him a brief, biting kiss before dropping to his knees in the dirt. His jeans will have stains come tomorrow, but Simon couldn’t care less when Kieren shivers above him.

“Tell me if you want to stop at any point.” he says, gazing up to make sure Kieren nods. He does, slowly and breathing a little hard. Simon smiles, then leans in and presses his open mouth to the bulge in Kieren’s maroon trousers.

Kieren’s breath catches, then shudders out of his throat as Simon breathes hotly against his crotch, lips pressing just firm enough that he can feel them through his jeans. Simon’s tongue laps heavily at his clothed erection, creating a small damps patch Kieren’s nerves can no longer feel, but he knows is there. That mouth is precise and clever, making Kieren wonder how many times Simon’s done this before, because he’s not even out of his jeans but it’s still the most erotic thing he’s ever felt. Or seen, for that matter, glancing down just in time to see Simon take the tab of his zipper lightly between white teeth and drag it down. The action runs a line of pressure along his cock, Kieren groaning softly as Simon reaches up to pop the button with nimble fingers. He noses into Kieren’s trousers before pressing a wet kiss to the tip of Kieren’s cock through his black boxer briefs. Kieren trembles.

“Alright if I take these off?” Simon asks as he kisses up to Kieren’s hipbone, hands tugging lightly at the waistband of his jeans and underwear. A frantic nod is the only response. Simon smirks as he pulls the material down Kieren’s thighs, feeling the soft brush of downy blonde hairs against his fingertips. Against the wall Kieren’s fingers flex, a giveaway sign that he’s nervous, that this is uncharted territory, but try as Simon may not to make him uncomfortable, he can’t help but stare. He can’t bring himself to be sorry, though, as he takes in the sight of Kieren’s cock for the first time.

Frankly, it’s pretty. Average in size and girth, the tip flushed the same purple as their lips where it peeks out from delicate foreskin. It’s nestled in a thatch of soft, pale hair, which Simon can’t help but scratch through before he wraps gentle fingers around the base. He gives a few slow, exploratory strokes, other hand trailing up Kieren’s thigh to press lightly against a slender hipbone. Kieren’s silent above him, and Simon looks up to gauge his reaction. Wide, white eyes are fixed on his hand, watching hungrily as Simon presses his thumb teasingly under the head. Kieren makes a small noise, but his eyes never move.

“Still okay?” Simon asks, hand still moving slowly on Kieren’s now fully-erect cock, “It’s perfectly okay to change your mind.” The only response he receives is a gentle hand on his shoulder, Kieren giving permission and bracing himself at the same time. Maintaining eye contact, Simon leans in and wraps his lips around the head of Kieren’s cock.

A startled noise slips from Kieren, and Simon somehow manages to smirk around the dick in his mouth. He keeps watching Kieren while he applies light suction, tonguing at the foreskin and keeping up the slow movements of his hand on the shaft. The taste is familiar, heady and masculine with an earthy undertone, and Simon is addicted. Kieren’s face is a mix of awe and arousal, an expression Simon would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees for. Tightening his grip on Kieren’s hip just a fraction, he begins to take him deeper, loving the weight of the cock on his tongue. It’s been a while (the last time he’d done this was for two grams of cocaine just days before he died), but it’s easy to fall back into, sense memory allowing Simon to push until his nose is almost brushing the blonde hair at the base. Realising he’d closed his eyes at some point, he flicks them open and looks up at Kieren, waiting until he has his full attention before sucking him hard.

The sharp thrust of hips was expected, Simon’s hand pushing them reflexively back against the wall, but the hand tugging sharply at his hair wasn’t. Simon moans around Kieren’s cock.

Fingers twined into dark locks, Kieren’s eyes widen when he realises what he’s done, hand snapping quickly back to Simon’s shoulder. Simon groans at the loss, the vibrations sending thrills up Kieren’s spine, and his fingers dig in briefly. Sucking firmly as he pulls off, Simon takes Kieren’s hand in his own free one and guides it gently to his head.

“It’s okay.” he says, voice already rough. Kieren looks unconvinced, but there’s a clear desire in his pale eyes when he twists his fingers lightly through Simon’s hair. “I like it.” Simon adds. That seems to be all he needed to say, because a few seconds later Kieren’s other hand has joined the first, cradling the back of Simon’s head. Blunt nails run through his hair and Simon leans back into the touch. A soft noise, then just the barest hint of pressure guiding him back to Kieren’s spit-slicked cock.

Bringing his hand up to parallel the other on Kieren’s hips, Simon goes back to his task with renewed fervour. He sucks Kieren down in one quick motion, tongue pressing firmly to the underside of his cock, rubbing lightly at the thick vein there. Fingers tighten in his hair as he begins to bob his head, alternating short, quick pulls with languid, teasing movements that have Kieren’s thighs trembling in a matter of minutes. He pulls back until just the head is in his mouth, sucking hard before lavishing little kitten licks to the head and edge of Kieren’s foreskin. With both hands on Kieren’s hips he has to move his head around, Kieren’s cock slipping obscenely against his wet lips as he lays open-mouthed kisses down the underside. Small whines escape Kieren’s mouth every so often, and he moans lowly when Simon laves his tongue against the skin of his balls. Moving up again, he noses at the juncture between crotch and thigh, licking the crease before biting down firmly.

Kieren yelps.

Simon tries to pull back immediately, ready to apologise for hurting him, for pushing him, for everything. He doesn’t have time to, though, because Kieren’s hands clench harder in his hair and press him sharply forward, a silent plea for more. Feeling like the air has been knocked out of him (because god he feels like he doesn’t deserve Kieren wanting and insistent above him), Simon repeats the action, laying sharp bites all the way up to Kieren’s hip. He switches sides, planting a wet kiss to the head of Kieren’s cock before repeating his biting path along pale skin. He’s dimly aware of his own cock straining in his jeans, but he feels no pain, so it’s easy to dismiss for now. Kieren is more important.

Speaking of, Kieren is whimpering softly now, hands tugging at Simon’s hair to pull him back to his straining cock. Simon goes willingly, sucking him down until he feels the head press against the back of his throat (he quietly thanks God the undead don’t have gag reflexes, because his had been really sensitive in life). He sucks hard, noticing the sharp, aborted movements Kieren’s hips have begun to make. Letting his hands slip from Kieren’s hips, he moves them back until he has two handfuls of Kieren’s ass, gently encouraging him to thrust into his mouth. Kieren moans loudly, staring down at Simon for confirmation before pushing his hips forward tentatively. Simon’s only response is to grip his ass firmer (Simon is a little bit in love with the feeling of Kieren's lithe body under his fingers, but he's especially fond of the way the curve of his ass fits into the palms of his hands).

Within seconds Kieren is thrusting sharply into Simon’s welcoming mouth, hands still twisted tightly in his hair. A particularly desperate thrust has Simon moaning, addicted to the feeling of Kieren falling to pieces under his hands and mouth.

“Simon,” he says, though he doesn’t need to warn him, there’s nothing to warn for, “Simon, Simon.”

A sharp tug of Simon’s hair, then Kieren’s shaking violently, hips jerking forward and his cock pulses in Simon’s mouth. Simon groans long and low, hand going to his own crotch to press down firmly on the hard ridge in his jeans. Kieren’s heavy pants are the only noise around them, and he whimpers when Simon pulls of with a final suck to his sensitive cock. Despite the burning need to get off, Simon tugs Kieren’s clothes back into place, tucking him in gently and buttoning his trousers.

“You’re… oh God, Simon.” is the only warning before Kieren’s on his knees too, mouth desperate and hot against his own. Hands are working on his jeans, slim fingers delving into his pants to tug sharply of his aching cock. He moans heavily into Kieren’s mouth, and Kieren drinks it up, tightens his hand to drag more of the intoxicating sounds from him. Mere moments later Simon is coming, hands tightening against Kieren’s waist (under his clothes, actually, and when did they get there?) and mouth going briefly slack under Kieren’s.

Kieren lets him come down slowly, giving loose, teasing strokes to his overstimulated cock until Simon pulls away with a pained noise. He fixes his pants and jeans quickly, aware that Kieren’s still watching, before looking back up. The gentle kiss surprises him, such a contrast to the sharp bites and insistent tongues from just minutes ago, but he leans into it gratefully. Kieren’s hands have moved back to his hair, and Simon’s sensing a bit of a kink, but he certainly doesn’t protest. Something that sounds like ‘amazing’ slips from Kieren’s mouth between kisses, and Simon pulls back just far enough to smirk.

“I have been known to give pretty good head.” he quips, “But I don’t think it’s been rated amazing before.”

“I was rating you, not the blowjob.” Kieren’s eyes are affectionate and heavy-lidded, the afterglow not yet totally worn off, but he sounds sincere. Simon doesn’t quite know what to do with that, so he just kisses Kieren again.

 

* * *

 

The two times after that are hurried and hot, stolen in Kieren’s house.

Once in Kieren’s bedroom, rutting against each other on his too-small bed, Simon breathing heavily against Kieren’s throat as he peppers it with kisses. Their clothes stay on, but Kieren works a hand down the back of Simon’s jeans, over his boxers, to grip his ass and haul him harder into every sharp thrust down. They come quickly, mouths slick against each other and panting for long minutes before they hear Steve pull into the driveway.

Once in the bathroom, which had started out the same until Kieren had pulled open their jeans. Simon was unsure, hyperaware of the other three people asleep in the house, but any protest dies in his throat when Kieren’s spit-slicked hand wraps around both of their cocks. He strokes them urgently (they're awake before everyone else, one of the perks of not actually needing proper sleep, but the sun will rise at any moment, and with it, Kieren's family) pale fingers stark against the dark purplish heads of their cocks. Simon has to bite down on Kieren’s neck to stop himself crying out, but even that can’t fully muffle the long, low groan that accompanies his orgasm. Kieren makes no noise, following him over with a hitching sigh.

Simon will never live down the knowing look Jem levels him with at breakfast two hours later.


	2. Chapter 2

The sixth time they’re alone at the Walker’s house, Sue and Steve having taken Jem into the city for a few days to start looking into Universities.

Taped to the television was a long list of films they’d missed during their ‘time away’, printed in Steve’s block handwriting. Kieren had insisted Simon choose, and an hour later they are wrapped together on the couch transfixed by a film about dreams within dreams (an academy award nominee, according to Steve’s note).

Simon sits at an angle, one leg curved up on the seat of the couch and the other hanging off, Kieren between them with his back to Simon’s chest. While one of his arms keeps his head propped up along the armrest, the other is wrapped around Kieren, fingers toying absently at the hem of his soft hoodie. His fingers dip under the fabric and trace nonsensical patterns along the skin of Kieren’s hip, and strawberry blonde hair tickles his neck where Kieren’s head is tucked under his chin. It’s easy, in moments like this, to forget who and what they are. It feels almost normal, so comfortable and intimate, and Simon doesn’t quite know what to do with that. Such closeness and contentment was never something he thought he’d have to deal with, living or dead.

“Simon?” Kieren’s voice is questioning, but the hand against Simon’s on his hip is gentle.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

Simon puzzles for a moment, not quite understanding until Kieren’s hand begins moving his, dragging his fingers along his hip again. At some point he must have stopped, alerting Kieren to his less than present state of mind.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” He nods at the telly, knowing Kieren will feel the movement, “Just trying to figure out if dice and muscles have slept together, are sleeping together, or will sleep together.” Kieren snorts at the quip (god, Simon even finds that attractive, he’s so far gone), but speaks up a minute later.

“Have, definitely have. Maybe will.” Simon doesn’t need to see the wry little smirk to know it’s there.

They sit in content silence for a long time, Kieren still guiding Simon’s hand lightly along his skin. He almost becomes unaware of it, in fact, until, under the cover of a particularly loud explosion on-screen, his hand is suddenly lead higher. Fingers now rubbing circles on Kieren’s sternum, Simon’s gaze flicks down to the exposed triangle of Kieren’s stomach, off-white where his tan hoodie has ridden up. Kieren says nothing, eyes still fixed on the television, but his hand is deliberate over Simon’s. It’s an invitation, Simon realises.

Slowly Simon slips his hand out from under Kieren’s, letting it roam languorously across his smooth chest and stomach; down the line of his sternum, across to his hip, up the side of his ribcage. Kieren retracts his own hand to give Simon free reign, placing it lightly on Simon’s left thigh (the one pressed between his own and the side of the couch). It’s a thrill, being able to explore yet unseen pieces of Kieren. To discover the smooth plane of his stomach and the softness of the thin layer of baby fat still hiding on the curve of his hip. To run fingers through the coarse hair of his navel and the soft, barely there down in the centre of his chest. There’s the lightly puckered flesh of a scar on Kieren’s left side; appendectomy, Simon’s figures. It isn’t all that sexual, really, more of an act of intimacy-

That is, until Simon brushes Kieren’s right nipple and he jolts in Simon’s arms. They both freeze; Simon hesitant to do anything without Kieren’s express permission, Kieren wanting to see what Simon will do without instruction. On the screen a staircase becomes a paradox.

“Go on.” Kieren murmurs eventually, arching a little to indicate just what he means. Still cautious, Simon lets his fingers drift back, circling the firm nub lightly. Kieren sighs breathily and nuzzles the back of his head a little closer to Simon’s neck. It’s clear that Kieren’s on board, so Simon begins to gently tease his nipple, tracing over and around it, tweaking it softly every now and then. When it’s tight and pebbled under his fingers he shifts, tilting his body under Kieren so he can reach the other one. It gets the same treatment, rubbed and lightly twisted until both nipples are peaked under Simon’s wandering fingers. Kieren pushes his right side up, the hint obvious, and Simon is more than willing to obey, returning his attentions to the other nipple.

The bitten off whimper Simon receives when he pinches is a heady incentive. He manoeuvres himself under Kieren until they’re both half-reclined on the couch, legs stretched out on the cushions and Kieren’s back tucked tightly to Simon’s chest. Once settled, he brings up his newly freed right arm to slip his hand under Kieren’s shirt and hoodie to take over work on the right side while his other hand jumps to Kieren’s left nipple. A groan leaks from Kieren’s lips as he drops his head back onto Simon’s shoulder, from where Simon can see the purple flush on his lower lip that means he’s been biting it.

They quickly fall into a rhythm; Simon toys with Kieren, tweaking and stroking his nipples, alternating between quick, sharp motions and torturously slow teasing. Kieren tries, and often fails, to hold back the small desperate noises catching in his throat. His hips shift, moving restlessly with Simon’s hands, the movements pressing the curve of his ass firmer against Simon’s crotch. Intoxicating is the only way Simon can describe it – the power and pleasure that he gets from taking Kieren apart so slowly. Simon tries to be unpredictable, switching between flicks and twists and gentle pressure, the lack of a pattern making it impossible for Kieren to anticipate him. Simon presses his nose to Kieren’s exposed neck, breathes in the earthy smell of his skin hidden under the scents of soap and clean laundry. Kieren’s cotton pyjama bottoms are tented, Simon notices, but knows he can’t really do anything comfortably from this angle without bending Kieren in half.

Not to mentions the desperate, unhappy noises Kieren makes whenever Simon’s fingers stray the tiniest bit too far.

When Simon presses his mouth to Kieren’s neck, however, and twists both nipples sharply in tandem, it’s just too much. Kieren moans loudly, shoving a hand unceremoniously into his trousers to jerk himself off. Simon notices, how could he not, and breathes out sharply over the wet patch his mouth left of Kieren’s neck. The ghost chill makes Kieren’s cock twitch in his hand, stroking faster when Simon seemingly unconsciously pinches his nipples – hard. A harsh, pained noise escapes Kieren, but it quickly morphs into a low groan of pleasure, so Simon doesn’t stop. If anything, he increases his efforts, fingers rolling and twisting Kieren’s abused nipples as he grows hyperaware of his own cock pressed up against the curve of Kieren’s ass.

Kieren’s gradually becoming more vocal, his arm moving faster, and Simon wants to see so badly, wishes he could watch. He lifts his mouth from where he’s been biting kisses into Kieren’s throat to murmur a shaky “Can I see?”. A sharp jerk of Kieren’s hips into his own fist is followed by a short nod against Simon’s shoulder as he shoves his pyjamas and boxer briefs down just far enough to pull his cock free. It lays dark and heavy against Kieren’s hip for a brief moment (Simon won’t deny his mouth waters), before he restarts his frantic strokes, clearly chasing release. Simon does everything in his power to help, sucking at the silent pulse point in Kieren’s neck while his fingers go back to work on his nipples. Only moments later Kieren’s arching off the couch, body shaking with orgasm.

I don’t deserve this, Simon thinks, I don’t deserve this beautiful, gentle boy writhing in my hands. Kieren would disagree.

His body goes lax as he comes back down, giving his cock a few short, final strokes before leaving it, running his hand up his own chest to lay over Simon’s. A few light strokes of Kieren’s abused nipples result in full-body shudders and soft whines, but Simon’s fingers still after a moment. His cock is still hard and trapped between their bodies, but he’s in no hurry, happy to let Kieren breathe heavily against him for a while longer.

“In a minute,” Kieren begins, the roughness of his voice sending a spark of pleasure through Simon, “I’m going to get on my knees and blow you.” It’s tame as far as dirty talk goes, but the bluntness mixed with the mental image makes Simon tremble and his hips buck into the curve of Kieren’s clothed ass.

“And then we’re going to rewind the movie, because I really want to know if those two end up sleeping together.” He says. Simon hadn’t even noticed the credits rolling on the screen.

When Kieren slips to the floor between his knees, however, he quickly forgets why he should care.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Kieren comes silently, one hand fisted in Simon’s hair, the other pressed hard over his own mouth. As it happens, his nipples are even more sensitive under Simon’s mouth, who bites gently while rutting shamelessly into the cradle of Kieren’s hips. They both have their pants around their thighs, too eager for anything else, but Simon can’t bring himself to care as their cocks brush together skin on skin.

Simon wishes they could bruise, wishes he could mark Kieren with tongue and teeth. It’s this thought that brings him to orgasm, hard and sudden, Kieren’s fingers carding softly through his hair.

 

* * *

 

 

The eighth time Kieren’s mouth is insistent on Simon’s, their breathing heavy and hands roaming. They’re in Simon’s room at the bungalow, Kieren in his lap at the foot of the bed and the red walls casting a warm glow on Kieren’s pale skin, making it look almost alive. Almost. Simon nips at his lips, hands pressed to the skin of his back under his many layers. They’re both half hard by the time Kieren breathes into Simon’s mouth; “If you could have anything, do anything, with me, what would you want?”

Simon is speechless for a moment, sluggish brain trying to catch up with the sudden and unexpectedly candid question. Kieren continues to pepper his lips and jaw with tiny, fleeting kisses, taking a moment to register Simon’s sudden stillness.

“Simon?” He sits up a little straighter, the movement pressing their crotches closer where he’s seated on Simon’s lap. Inhaling sharply, Simon tries to centre himself, but he’s still caught on the question.

“What do you mean, anything?”

A small shrug, Kieren’s eyes flicking down in an almost demure act of shyness. “Usually you’re so focussed on me, which is great,” he punctuates this with another quick kiss, “But… I want to do something for you. Something you like.” Simon puzzles at this, brow furrowing.

“I like you.” He responds bluntly, eliciting a small but exasperated laugh from Kieren. “No, seriously. Getting you off gets me off, you must know that.” Lips quirked into a small smile, Kieren runs his hands up from the nape of Simon’s neck and into his hair. When he has a good handful of the dark strands twined around his fingers he gives a sharp tug, Simon leaning into the pull with a low moan. Kieren smirks.

“I mean something like that, something specific that you like. Saying you like me is a bit too broad.” He continues to tug lightly at Simon’s hair as he talks, sending sparks of heat and arousal through Simon’s body and directly south. “So, go on. What do you want?”

Anything, Simon’s mind supplies, everything.

His eyes have flickered shut, he realises when Kieren lays a barely-there kiss to each lid. The bed creaks as Kieren grinds down slowly on his lap, one of Simon’s hands moving down to grip his ass, while the other stays pressed to a smooth shoulder blade.

“Come on, Simon. What do you want me to do for you? To you?”

“I don’t want to- to pressure you-” Simon’s cut off by an exasperated, and somewhat irritated, groan.

“You won’t. I’m not going to do anything I’m not ready for, and I know you’d never ask me to, so don’t try to coddle me, okay?” Kieren’s voice is firm without being accusing, “So tell me; what do you want?” His white eyes are fixed on Simon, dark with arousal but still earnest. Simon is so weak for him.

“I’m… I don’t know.” Simon says truthfully (because what on earth could he ask of this beautiful boy?). He’s afraid of saying the wrong thing, making the wrong move, so used to letting Kieren lead in his own subtle way. Kieren must see this, because he’s suddenly pressed close to Simon’s chest, hips making small circles against the hardness in Simon’s jeans.

“I could suck you off, I know you like that.” He says lowly, and Simon makes a soft, pained noise. “But I want to try something new. I’d suggest letting you come on my face, but we can’t exactly do that, so.” Simon shudders at the suggestion (and he hadn’t really been one for dirty talk in his first life, but Jesus he could get used to the words spilling from Kieren’s pristine lips). Kieren notices, how could he not, and his voice drops even lower as he continues. “We could try blowing each other at the same time. Maybe you could watch me get myself off. Or, we could do, what’s it called… intercrural.” Every addition makes Simon react, a quiet noise or small movement but clearly Kieren is still searching for something more.

“I could rim you.”

Oh.

Simon’s entire body tenses, then shivers beneath Kieren, fingers digging sharply into the swell of Kieren’s ass. His wide eyes find Kieren’s, and a small, silent moment passes between them. Please, Simon thinks.

“Is that what you want?” Kieren asks simply, no hints of distaste or hesitance in his voice. “You want me to rim you, yeah?” Simon swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and nods.

“Yeah,” He says, voice hoarse, “Yeah, if you- y’know… want to.” Kieren’s pupils are wide and dark, and Simon can’t deny how badly he wants this, wants Kieren to want it too.

“God, yes, I want to.” Kieren replies in a rush, before his mouth is back on Simon’s, sucking at his tongue and biting his lips. They kiss heatedly for long moments, breaking away only for Kieren to remove his hoodie and shirt. Simon’s jumper comes off too, but he leaves the dark top underneath. Kieren bears down on Simon, pushing until he’s forced to move backwards up the bed so that Kieren can spread out on top of him. Both of his hands are on Kieren’s ass now, keeping their hips pressed close together while Kieren fumbles at his belt and jeans. A soft, frustrated noise is exhaled into their kiss, and Simon huffs a laugh as he pulls away to help. Quickly his jeans are removed, followed by his plain black boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down, cock erect and flushed purple against his hip. Kieren, perched on his knees at the foot of the bed, runs gentle hands up Simon’s thighs. He smiles when he meets Simon’s eyes.

“Can I take this off too?” He asks softly. Simon is momentarily lost, until he feels a light tug at the hem of his shirt. Something in his stomach goes cold.

“No.” He says, a bit too sudden. “I mean- just, not- not now, not-”

“Okay.” Kieren says, cutting him off with a far gentler kiss than mere moments ago, and redirecting his attention. A small part of Simon still feels panicked, because Kieren can’t see, can’t know, not yet, not now. He knows the scar is ugly, morbid, but that’s nothing, nothing, when Simon thinks of Kieren asking why it’s there, where it came from. The horror of telling him, not knowing how he will react (because Simon loves his tenderness, his compassion, but there are some things that cannot be looked upon with anything but disgust). A small part of Simon is still strapped to that grate, broken voice asking “Please, stop.”.

That small part is silenced when Kieren bends to suck a kiss into Simon’s inner thigh. Simon moans, caught off-guard, and spreads his legs wider so that Kieren can kneel between them. His hands tremble minutely at his sides, so he twists them sharply into the bedspread to hide it.  
“Okay?” Kieren asks, lips ghosting over the soft skin just below Simon’s hip. “We can stop if you want.”

“No, no it’s all good.” Simon tries to think of nothing but Kieren, feel nothing but Kieren’s lips on his skin, the way the bed dips under them. Gentle fingers skim the back of his hand, and Simon lets his white-knuckled grip of the bedspread go for long enough to twine his fingers with Kieren’s. It helps.

Kieren strokes his thumb over the back of Simon’s hand for a few minutes, lips trailing over his thighs in soft bursts of pressure that are half kiss, half reminder that he’s there. Gradually the kisses grow bolder, wandering slowly upwards into the juncture of hip and thigh and across to the wiry hair at the base of Simon’s cock. Kieren gives him a few short, sharp strokes before laying open-mouthed kisses down the shaft and over his balls, licking and sucking at them in turn. Simon’s hips press up, but Kieren doesn’t linger, cupping his balls to run the flat of his tongue firmly along the sensitive skin beneath. Suddenly it hits Simon, the reality of what Kieren is going to do, and he makes a low, drawn-out noise at the thought.

“I think this will be easier on your hands and knees.” Kieren says hotly between Simon’s legs, smirking when he draws away and Simon makes an unhappy noise at the loss. Simon’s quick to comply though, rolling onto his stomach before pushing up onto his elbows, tugging nervously at his shirt to make sure it doesn’t expose his back. It’s scary, having Kieren so close to the scar without being aware of it, but the fingers slipping back between his reassure him easily.

Behind him Kieren is drawing in shaky breaths, and Simon only belatedly realises the picture he must paint; ass up and willing, almost begging for it. Frankly, he doesn’t care enough to be embarrassed. A dry hand runs up his thigh and over his ass, Kieren’s thumb pressing teasingly between his cheeks. Simon can’t help but cant his hips back a little, starving for such an intimate touch.

“I’ve never done this before.” Kieren admits, his other hand coming up to mirror the first on Simon’s ass. “But I’ve watched a fair bit of porn in my time, so I kind of know the gist of it.” (Simon tries, and fails, not to think of Kieren in the dark, face illuminated by the glow of a laptop screen and he jerks himself desperately to completion.) “Just make sure you tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” Kieren adds, palms firm and wide on Simon’s ass, gently spreading him open.

“And the stuff I do like?” Simon asks, because talking is easy, natural for him. The way his voice hitches betrays how eager he is.

“I think I’ll be able to tell.” Kieren’s smirk is almost audible.

The first lick is long and firm, a broad stripe from Simon’s balls to his tailbone, and he will never admit to the chocked-off whimper that escapes his throat. Kieren pauses, maybe to figure out if the noise was a good or bad sign, but the way Simon’s hips press back clears that up quickly. Thumbs spreading Simon wider, he presses in to lave at his hole, alternating between soft and hard presses of tongue to feel the muscle tighten and relax in response. Gently he presses his lips to the skin, sucking a kiss there, making Simon gasp and his hips twitch. He wishes, absently, that he would feel the wetness of Kieren’s mouth, the saliva dripping down his perineum and over his balls, but the sense memory is more than enough when paired with the eager way Kieren’s tongue moves.

Kieren quickly grows bolder, his tongue flattening and pressing against Simon’s hole with just enough pressure to tease, moving off before Simon can push back into it. He closes his mouth over Simon, sucks and licks while his hands spread Simon even wider, exposing him to the glory of Kieren’s wicked mouth. Simon’s balls feel tight all ready, cock aching with how hard he is, but he won’t touch himself, wants this feeling of being open and exposed to last for the rest of his life. Kieren draws back with a messy kiss to his hole, rubbing a finger lightly over it as he breathes heavily against the firm swell of Simon’s ass. Sharp pressure, and, god yes, Kieren’s biting down gently while he teases at Simon’s wet hole, rubbing his own saliva into the delicate skin. Simon feels marked and dirty and perfect.

He’d never had this before, this kind of slow burn and tease that came from a partner enjoying getting him off, letting him wait. Simon could count on three fingers how many people had rimmed him before, two in an attempt to win some of his stash, and once as a two-minute attempt at foreplay. Sure, back then he could feel the wetness of their mouths, the chill of the air against their saliva on his skin, but that was nothing in comparison to this. Nothing in comparison to Kieren’s mouth, eager and exploratory, licking and pressing at him until Simon couldn’t hold back the low noises in his throat, soft grunts and hitching breaths. Nothing in comparison to the way Kieren seems to enjoy it as much as Simon does.

It’s good, so good, but it’s not enough. Simon wants more, hips starting to rhythmically press back into Kieren’s perfect mouth, and Kieren seems eager to give it to him, fingers kneading Simon’s ass while he presses the flat of his tongue to Simon’s hole. It’s just as Simon opens his mouth to ask for more that Kieren pushes the tip of his tongue firmly against Simon, licking hard over his hole once, twice, before pressing in. Simon can’t hold in the moan, loud and broken in the quiet of his room, and his arms refuse to hold him up any longer. Face now pressed into the sheets, Simon knows how debauched he must look, but it only makes his cock throb between his thighs as pleasure shoots through him like a flash fire. Kieren groans in response, the vibrations only furthering Simon’s painful arousal, and begins to move his tongue, fucking into Simon as best he can. The eroticism of it, Kieren fucking Simon shallowly with his tongue, is almost too much to bear, and Simon feels his orgasm rush closer.

He’s panting heavily now, hands fisted tightly in the bedspread, and he’s close, so close, but it’s still not enough. Kieren’s tongue is torturous and insistent against his hole, pressing and twisting until he’s a writhing mess, body begging for release. His cock aches where it hangs heavily between his thighs, but he still doesn’t reach to touch himself, wants it from Kieren and Kieren alone. High, desperate noises are slipping from his open lips, but Simon’s so far gone he can barely hear them, let alone care. His balls are tight against his body, and he’s ready to come, so ready, but Simon still teeters on the edge, Kieren refusing to move any faster or harder.

Briefly Simon feels one of Kieren’s hands move, leaving his ass where he had spread Simon open and disappearing, before there’s a finger pressed insistently at the delicate flesh below his balls. His hips jerk forward, cock jutting into nothing but air, and Kieren goes with him, mouth staying pressed firmly to his hole. Teasingly the finger trails up, Simon keening the whole while, until it presses alongside Kieren’s tongue, opening him gently. Simon can feel his body clench, and suddenly all he wants in the world is to be filled, to be spread open with fingers and mouth so that Kieren can press into him, fill him up and quench this desperate greed, this insatiable craving for anything, everything Kieren will give him.

Kieren’s tongue swirls around the rim of Simon’s hole just as he presses his finger in to the first knuckle, and Simon is gone. His orgasm tears through him like electricity, body jolting and thighs shaking as he clenches hard around the intrusion. Absently he can hear threads popping, hear his own voice, wrecked and low as he moans through the waves of shocking pressure. Kieren drags every last shiver out of him, tongue lapping insistently at his hole until Simon’s whimpering and trembling, pulling away as he shakes with over-sensitivity.

With Kieren’s mouth and hands gone, Simon suddenly feels how sore his thighs are, spread wide and holding him for so long. He lets his hips slump into the bed, still breathing heavily as Kieren crawls up to lie beside him on the small mattress. It’s only when one of Kieren’s hands gently unfolds his from its death grip on the sheets that Simon finally opens his eyes (and when did he close them?), the last of the aftershocks making him twitch and shiver. Kieren’s lips are shiny with spit, eyes bright and intense, and he drags Simon in for a thorough, sloppy kiss.

“You came without me even touching you.” He says, the roughness of his voice making Simon’s cock twitch painfully. “Simon, god, you have no idea…” Kieren trails off, eyes fluttering shut, and it’s only then that Simon takes in the motion of his shoulder, looks down to see his jeans open and pants shover down, pumping rapidly at his cock. Simon whines softly before reaching down to press reverent fingers to Kieren’s hip, lacking the fine motor skills to do anything more involved. He watches the purple head of Kieren’s cock disappear and reappear under his pale, hurried fingers, and savours the long, drawn-out groan that tears itself from Kieren’s throat as he comes.

They come down together slowly, pressed close and half-clothed, breath mingling while Simon presses lazy little kisses to Kieren’s panting mouth. When their breathing has evened out (unnecessary, considering they don’t need to breathe, but a habit that’s hard to kick), Kieren kisses him back slow and sweet, warmth blooming in Simon’s chest and the willing affection.

“You were so good,” Kieren breathes into his mouth, “Simon, you were amazing.” Simon doesn’t say anything, because what had he done but lie there and whimper, but he welcomes Kieren’s fingers carding tenderly through his hair and doesn’t protest when Kieren drags the covers up over them. They don’t feel the cold, but that’s not the point when Kieren urges Simon to roll over and moulds himself to Simon’s back, wrapping a possessive arm around his middle.

As they drift off Simon doesn’t even once think about the gash in his back, only his thin shirt separating it from Kieren’s chest, and truly that’s a good thing.

 

* * *

 

The next time comes the following morning, when they wake up hard and Kieren wraps a lazy hand around Simon’s cock under the covers. Still slow with sleep, he jerks Simon until he comes with a low groan, then spreads his own legs so Simon can duck under the sheets and blow him. When they discover the small rip in the bedspread Kieren smirks, and any embarrassment Simon would have felt is pushed away with languid kisses in the pale light of dawn. He knows that Kieren notices the way he keeps his back to the mattress, redirects Kieren’s hands when they drift too close to his spine, but Kieren leaves it be, too caught up in the tenderness of the moment to push where he knows Simon has built a wall.

 

* * *

 

 

The tenth time, their first time, doesn’t begin anything like how Simon would have expected. Then again, given prior experience, he should have expected that.

“I’m still technically a virgin, you know.” Kieren announces one day at the bungalow, Simon’s brows rising at the sudden and strange proclamation. He looks at Kieren, curled up on the couch with one of his poetry books, and waits for some sort of explanation. Kieren says nothing.

“How do you figure that?” Simon asks, striding slowly across the room to sit beside him, quietly loving the way Kieren instinctively moves closer.

“I’ve never had full-on sex.” He responds, throwing Simon a quizzical and mildly patronising stare.

“Well, I don’t know. It depends on what you consider to be sex, I’ve had your cock in my mouth multiple times, and I’d say that’s sex.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying it’s not,” Kieren replies, disgruntled, “but, y’know-”

“So then you have had sex.”

“Yes, I know that, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“Virginity is just a social construct, Kieren.”

“I want you to fuck me, Simon.”

Simon, who had been enjoying winding Kieren up, falls immediately silent. I want you to fuck me, Simon. The words seem to echo in his head, sending shivers of heat through him even as Kieren smirks smugly from the other end of the couch. Oh, Simon thinks, okay.

“You okay?” Kieren asks when Simon’s been quiet for too long, staring awe-struck and lustful at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” he replies, clearing his throat when he realises how embarrassingly turned on he sounds, voice rough at even the slightest hint of what Kieren’s offering.

“Good.” Is Kieren’s only response before he’s standing and taking Simon’s hands, pulling him up and into his space so that their bodies are pressed together from hip to shoulder. He kisses Simon deeply, breaking away all too soon to step back and lead Simon in the direction of the bedroom.

“Wait, now?” Kieren’s brows draw together and his eyes flit to the side, as if expecting someone to walk into the room.

“Well, yeah.” He replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world that he should want Simon to fuck him. Simon hesitates, hand flexing in Kieren’s but not pulling away. “Is that… would you prefer to wait?”

“No!” Simon cringes at how eager he sounds, “No, it’s not that, I just…” Kieren alternates between watching him intently and glancing at a space over his left ear, shoulders slumping a little and feet moving restlessly on the worn carpet. The hand that isn’t entwined with Simon’s is fidgeting with a loose thread on the sleeve of his hoodie.

Simon wants him so badly, wants every inch of that lean body, from pale lashes to the tips of his fingers to the hollows behind his knees. But wanting someone doesn’t guarantee they’ll want you back, especially when you’re not good and pure and whole. Kieren doesn’t like violence, doesn’t like to see people in pain. To think of how Kieren would respond to someone who willingly gave themselves over to it out of weakness, out of fear? Simon can barely stomach it, feels bile rising in his throat even as he wills the anxiety away.

We all have our scars.

Simon lets out a slow, trembling breath. “I- I don’t think you want that.” He begins, but Kieren’s eyes are instantly hard, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry, but you don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t want. If this is some sort of attempt to- to protect me or something-” Simon’s shaking his head, quickly cutting him off.

“No, Kieren, that’s not what I meant-”

“Well, I’m not sure what you’re supposed to have meant by-”

“It’s complicated-”

“Then explain it, Simon.” The quiet eagerness is gone from Kieren’s eyes, his shoulders set firmly even as he keeps Simon’s hand in his. Simon can’t help but admire the firm line of his mouth, the slope of his indignant brows. He’s beautiful. “I want you. So, tell me whatever it is you haven’t been telling me, because I’ve noticed, Simon. I want you, and you want me, so whatever it is that you’re holding back… just… just tell me, okay?”

Simon’s back prickles with phantom pain. For several long moments they just stand there, hands held between them, challenging each other. Then Simon nods, just once.

“Okay.” He can’t meet Kieren’s eyes as he draws his hand away, walks slowly to the bedroom. He hears Kieren follow after a few seconds. Simon moves around the bed, sits down on the far side, his back to the door where he can hear Kieren lingering in the doorway. The room is so quiet, and Simon really didn’t think that it would happen like this. Obviously he couldn’t hide it forever, but as he gazes out gauzy white curtains to the well-lit garden beyond he genuinely feels that this stage doesn’t match the play that’s about to unfold.

Reaching around, he fists the back of his jumper in his hands and draws it over his head. It ruffles his hair, so he makes sure to pat it back into place, hyperaware of Kieren’s steady, unnecessary breathing behind him. Simon knows he’s stalling. It doesn’t stop him from plucking open the buttons of his shirt at a glacial pace. The action pulls the loose white material tighter against his back, and he knows that something must show – a shape, a shadow – because Kieren makes a soft, inquisitive noise. He hears Kieren step further into the room as he reaches the last button.

For a moment Simon’s shirt hangs open. There is a bird chirping outside. Kieren still thinks he’s whole.

Simon lets the material of his shirt slip down his shoulders to bunch at his elbows, the small of his back.

Kieren chokes.

The bird is still chirping, Simon latching onto the sound in an attempt to distract himself from the sound of Kieren breathing. The sound of Kieren moving closer. Below him the bed tilts, meaning Kieren must have crawled onto it, but Simon doesn’t turn, doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. It’s not that he ever thought Kieren would reject him, scorn him for the canyon in his flesh and the way his hands sometimes shake (Simon never lets him see that).

No, what Simon is terrified of is Kieren’s pity.

“Simon.” Kieren breathes, reverent and cautious and heartbroken. Fingertips brush the skin of Simon’s shoulder blade, just to the left of the scar. He leans into it without even thinking, feels like he hasn’t been touched in an eternity and craves it more deeply than he’s ever known. Another set of fingers join the first, running down the length of Simon’s back, the hypersensitive skin at the frayed edges of the scar. He knows some of the staples have come out, knows there are places where his fucking spine is visible through the gaps, but Kieren still touches him. Not like he’s broken, or fragile, not as if he has a huge ‘Handle With Care’ stamped across his skin. No, Kieren touches him like an artefact, something to be careful with, yes, but still worthy, still whole and important.

Simon wants to press himself into the nearest corner and sob, he’s so relieved.

“What happened?” The whisper comes, like Simon knew it would, the question one he’s always known he would have to answer. “I thought you… I thought it was an overdose.”

“The treatment centre.” His voice cracks, but Kieren’s palms press flat to the skin of his back, grounding him. “They… there were… experiments.” He feels the way Kieren’s fingers dig in after a moment, connecting the dots quickly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kieren asks, the quiet fury simmering under the surface of his words not lost on Simon’s ears.

“No.” It’s a whispered plea, but Kieren doesn’t push him, doesn’t ask for more. Because Kieren is kind and gentle and beautiful and Simon does not deserve a single golden hair from his head, let alone his heart. Behind him Kieren must move, because suddenly the bed is dipping, the hands on his back disappearing for a moment. It feels like an eternity to Simon.

Then they’re back, slipping Simon’s shirt off his arms and the wrapping around his chest as Kieren presses up close to Simon’s back. He can feel Kieren’s bare chest against the scar as Kieren’s legs bracket his, the frayed flesh brushing Kieren’s skin. Simon leans into it, how could he not when Kieren places a tender kiss to the nape of his neck.

“You never take your shirt off around me.” Kieren says softly. It’s not a judgement, not a complaint, just an observation. “You never let me touch your back.”

“You wear long sleeves.” Simon’s surprised to hear himself say. Kieren hums a response, arms tightening around Simon’s chest, thumbs rubbing absently at his ribs. Suddenly he is hyperaware of the scratch of stitches against his skin where Kieren’s wrists are.

“Not always.” Kieren says into the soft hairs at Simon’s nape, “Not with you.”

The admission is so simple, so plain, but it makes Simon ache, twisting in Kieren’s arms to reach his mouth. Kieren helps him, meets him half way with gentle lips and a hand rising to stroke his jaw. Not for the first time Simon realises just how much he loves this golden boy.

They kiss slowly, sweetly for a long time. It’s an apology and forgiveness and compassion at first, but as they move back, Kieren drawing Simon closer to him, it becomes something else. Their kisses become firmer, tongues slipping together insistently and breaths panted into the rare spaces between. Kieren guides him to sit against the headboard, straddles his legs to stay close as his hands roam from Kieren’s biceps to the small of his back. For an age they kiss, chests touching and Kieren’s hands skirting the edges of Simon’s scar where it begins at the top of his back. Despite the situation the lust is heavy between them and Simon slips his hands down to grip firmly at Kieren’s ass when he begins to grind his hips in small, slow circles.

“I want you so much.” Simon says to the skin under Kieren’s ear, trailing lips and teeth down the column of his neck. There’s fire under his skin, licking at his nerve endings wherever his body touches Kieren’s, and the sensation is overwhelming.

“You have me.” The response is breathed into Simon’s hair, one of Kieren’s hands cupping the back of his neck and rubbing at the fine hairs there. “No matter how many scars you have, or how much or little you want to tell me about them, you have me, Simon.” It’s perfect and devastating, the way Kieren is so honest with him. It carves a hole in his chest and fills it with hope even as Kieren’s nibbling at his earlobe, tweaking a nipple. Simon can’t help it, surges forward to lock Kieren in another heady, passionate kiss, sucking at his tongue and licking the backs of his teeth.

Palms braced on Simon’s chest, Kieren doesn’t pull away again until he’s desperate for breath, an exceptional thing for someone who doesn’t need to breathe. Simon follows him, lips tingling and craving more, but halts when Kieren reaches down to undo their trousers. He’s hard, cock sensitive to the drag of fabric as Kieren pulls his jeans and boxers off, then crawls off the bed to divest himself of his own clothes. Simon stays silent, speechless as Kieren fumbles in the bedside drawer for the half-empty bottle of lube Simon keeps there. He takes Kieren’s wrist gently then, not missing the way Kieren flinches at the touch of skin against his scar. White eyes flick to Simon’s.

“Are you sure?” Simon asks, because he has to know. Kieren’s expression goes soft and he crawls back over Simon slowly, leaning in close until their lips are only a hairs breadth apart. Their eyes lock, which should be strange when they’re so near, but somehow isn’t.

“Yes.” Kieren breathes, and kisses him. It’s slower than before, but hotter, full of desire that makes Simon acutely aware of the way Kieren hovers above him, their cocks brushing lightly whenever he shifts. Simon arches into it, chases the teasing friction, earning a playful bite to his lower lip. Slowly Kieren works his mouth down Simon’s chin and along his jaw, traveling the tendons of his neck to suck at the place where it meets his shoulder. There’s the audible snap of a plastic lid, but it’s not until the bottle of lube drops to the sheets beside Simon’s hip that he realises what Kieren is about to do.

The only indication from Kieren is a small grunt, but it’s enough to make Simon curious, peering over his shoulder to see where Kieren’s hand disappears beneath the swell of his ass. Slowly Kieren’s shoulder begins to move, and he bites down on Simon’s shoulder as he gently thrusts a finger in and out of himself. Simon can’t see, but the thought of it is enough, his cock twitching at the realisation that Kieren is fingering himself open for him. He can’t help himself, slips a hand from the small of Kieren’s back to the curve of his ass, then lower, until he can brush a fingertip over Kieren’s slick rim where it’s stretched around one of his slender digits. Simon’s moan is loud, Kieren’s muffled into his shoulder, and he feels Kieren push in a little harder.

“God, Kieren.” Simon groans, tracing Kieren’s rim lightly even as he starts to work a second finger in alongside the first. There’s a huff of breath at his shoulder, then Kieren’s lifting his head to speak shakily into Simon’s ear.

“I had to practice, you know.” He mutters, low and sultry (though Simon doubts he intends it to be so fucking sexy), “In the shower, in my bed late at night.” The thought of it is almost too much for Simon; Kieren dripping wet, two fingers working his ass while he jerks himself under a steady stream of water, or ass-up, muffling moans into his pillow as he fingers himself open. He has two fingers in himself now and begins to pump them slowly, stretching himself open while Simon continues to tease at his rim.

“I mean, some of it was just for- ngh- for fun.” Kieren continues, almost as if he’s unaware of the stream of words flowing from his kiss-swollen lips, “But other times I imagined it was you. You’re so gentle with me, so good to me… but god, I wanted you in me so bad. Wanted your cock, wanted you to fuck me.”

Simon isn’t sure the undead can have aneurysms, but if they can he’s having one.

The combination of Kieren’s suddenly filthy mouth and the way he’s rocking back onto his fingers is too much for Simon. Snatching the lube up from the bed he coats the fingers of one hand liberally, using the other to grasp Kieren’s ass and spread him open. Kieren keens softly but presses into the touch, while Simon returns his now slick fingers to tracing Kieren’s hole.

“Can I-” Simon starts, but Kieren’s already nodding, already saying yes, so he slowly works a finger in alongside Kieren’s own. A low moan rolls from Kieren’s throat, and he clenches down at the stretch (Simon can’t think about how that will feel around his cock, needs to last if he actually wants to experience it) stilling momentarily. Simon waits, pressing kisses to Kieren’s temple until he rocks his hips back experimentally.

“Fuck.” Kieren breathes, clenching down again before he starts up a steady pace, thrusting back onto the three fingers inside him. It’s hot, so hot, and Simon has to reach down with his other hand to squeeze firmly at the base of his cock, refusing to come too soon. Kieren’s pace is increasing, breath hitching on every other rock of his hips as their slick fingers press in and out of him. He moans again, louder than before, clenching down hard while the hand still braced on Simon’s chest digs nails into his skin.

Suddenly Kieren’s moving, slipping fingers out of himself to fumble at the lube, squeezing it haphazardly into his hand and slicking up Simon’s cock. The noise Simon lets out is almost pained he’s so turned on, and it’s not until Kieren is grasping the base of his dick and lining him up that he finally lets his own finger slip from Kieren’s slick hole. They share a glance, eyes dark with lust, then Kieren is leaning in to kiss him even as he sinks down slowly onto Simon’s cock.

The noise Kieren makes into Simon’s mouth is obscene, a low groan that hitches up into a whimper as he gradually settles himself, ass pressed to Simon’s hips. Every nerve in Simon’s body is screaming at him to move, to thrust up into that almost painful tightness, to coax Kieren into clenching down around him. He ignores his body and waits, thumbs rubbing circles against Kieren’s hips. After a minute Kieren moves experimentally, grinding his hips down just a little (and Simon knows now why Kieren wanted him like this, propped up against the headboard and pliant under him).

“Oh, fuck, Simon.” He gasps, clenching hard around Simon’s cock. It’s so tight, so hot, and Simon bites his own lip hard, belatedly remembering that he can’t distract himself with pain. He’s so close already, so eager to come (inside Kieren, oh god) that he knows he won’t last long, regardless of how much he wants to. Kieren kisses him, coaxing his lower lip from between his teeth and sucking it gently, at the same time beginning to rock shallowly on Simon’s cock. The friction is amazing, Simon moaning wantonly into Kieren’s mouth while his fingers dig into Kieren’s hips.

“Kieren, fuck,” He’s begun to lift himself with his thighs, and he’s fucking himself slowly on Simon’s cock, body rising and falling even as Simon feels his orgasm racing towards him. “Kieren, I can’t- I’m so close… I can’t-” Simon’s broken-off pleas only seem to encourage Kieren, who clenches down with every hitching groan that slips from Simon’s lips.

“Yeah?” He asks, coming down particularly hard, eyes a little glazed. Simon keens, the pressure so good around his cock, and he knows he can’t last much longer, wishes he could make this good for Kieren.

Suddenly Kieren cries out, body arching as he thrusts down from a different angle, his cock jerking where it juts out from his slender hips. Oh, Simon thinks. He’s so desperate to come, but he needs it to be good for Kieren, so he wraps a hand tightly around Kieren’s cock and begins to jerk him off, lifting his hips into each of Kieren’s downward movements. Kieren, for all his inexperience, rides Simon with enthusiasm, thighs trembling minutely as he angles himself so that Simon’s cockhead rubs against his prostate. They’re both moaning, gasped expletives and bitten-off noises mixing in the heavy air between them.

Simon does his best to please Kieren, despite his own arousal-hazed state of mind. He rubs a thumb over Kieren’s slit, rolls his balls in his palm, pulls lightly at his foreskin while Kieren’s head tips back, eyes clamping shut as he clenches down particularly hard on Simon’s cock. On the brink of orgasm, Simon leans forward to latch onto one of Kieren’s nipples, biting and sucking as he pumps Kieren’s cock even faster, and suddenly Kieren’s crying out and shaking apart above him. Kieren’s body clenches rhythmically as he comes, the sudden increase in pressure enough to push Simon over the edge, thrusting up sharply into Kieren as his orgasm finally hits. Simon shudders with it, body jerking forwards and closer to Kieren even as he continues to lave his tongue over Kieren’s sensitive nipple, fingers slowing on his cock.

It’s only when Kieren whimpers, body too oversensitive to handle the attention, that Simon finally pulls away. As their breathing evens out Kieren runs his clean hand through Simon’s hair, pulls him in for a lingering kiss. His hands skirt down Simon’s back, brushing at the edges of the scar, and Simon doesn’t even think to shy away from the touch.

Kieren doesn’t break the kiss until his thighs begin to shake from holding him up for so long. He grunts in discomfort as Simon’s softening cock slips from him, and disappears to the bathroom to clean himself up, but he returns quickly with a wet cloth to wipe Simon down too, a sated smile lingering on his purplish lips. Then he drops the cloth unceremoniously to the floor and curls around Simon’s side, resting his head on Simon’s shoulder.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Kieren jokes. It’s dumb, but god it’s endearing, so Simon leans down to kiss him, light and tender.

“Yeah, I’d say so.” He responds as he pulls away, not even noticing the way Kieren’s arm has slipped under him to draw him closer. They kiss again, because they can, because it feels right, and Simon lets himself get lost in it.

Outside dusk slowly creeps across the sky, filling the room with shadows, but Simon can still hear that bird chirping faintly in the distance. When he looks down again Kieren’s face has gone gentle in sleep, and Simon knows that he’ll never want to be anywhere else in the world other than beside him. So their first time wasn’t what he’d expected, but really, when had he ever been able to anticipate Kieren before?

Smiling, he nestles closer to Kieren and flicks off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments/critique are welcome and desired!! I haven't written porn in FOREVER, so I'd love to know where I could improve it, as well as characterisation, dialgoue, etc (in preparation for the Kieren/Simon dom/sub fic I'm about to write with actual plot).

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding zombie biology - I know that technically they don't have blood so they shouldn't be able to get it up, but I figured that black gunk can make do for the sake of fic. However, since I really don't want them jizzing black ooze, they don't actually ejaculate when they orgasm. Zombie dicks are paradoxes, I know.


End file.
